Flying
by CBratter
Summary: Mulder and Scully have some trouble on a flight back from a case. How will it affect their relationship? - Just some Fluff. MSR warning. I wrote this during a really long layover and the last leg of a flight. I don't know how good it is but I was inspire


Mulder and Scully have some trouble on a flight back from a case. How will it affect their relationship? - Just some fluff. I wrote this during a really long layover and the last leg of a flight. I don't know how good it is but I was inspired. Warning: MSR, and there really isn't anything else to it.

I don't own Mulder, Scully, The X-Files, or any airlines. (If I did I'd be rich and maybe I could own more of some other stuff)

**Flying**

Scully's head nodded down as her eyes fluttered shut, but then it shot back up again. She would have been happy to fall asleep but her neck was stiff already from performing an autopsy late into the night. Falling asleep sitting up wouldn't help matters any. She leaned her head back, hoping that at least if she drifted off again it wouldn't hurt her neck quite so much.

Mulder was sitting in the seat next to her, observing his partners exhaustion. "Scully, just sleep," he said softly.

"My neck is too sore," she said, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck.

Mulder felt guilty. It was his fault they had traveled to the middle of nowhere Montana, his fault she had been up all night performing an autopsy on a murder victim, and his fault that they were on the early morning flight back to DC, and all for not. The killer had simply been a man, not a monster of any kind, at least not in the supernatural since. Mulder supposed that anyone who could kill 5 young women and remove various internal organs definitely deserved the title of monster. Hoping to make up for some of what he felt he owned Scully for their trip out west, he lifted his arm up massaged her neck for her with one hand.

As Mulder's hand made contact with the bare skin of her neck, Scully felt a shiver run down her spine. It transformed into a feeling of warmth spreading over her body. She wanted to fight it. Her physical reaction to his touch was a red flag; this was crossing the line of professionalism. Who was she kidding; they had crossed that line years ago. Despite her logical mind telling her to stay awake, tell Mulder she was fine, and get him to stop touching her before she did something stupid, her body had other ideas. Stupidity for sure, she remembered thinking, as her eyes drifted shut and she let her head fall to rest on Mulder's shoulder.

Mulder had felt an electrical shock through his hand as he touched Scully's neck. Boundaries be damned, she was uncomfortable and he, long ago, had become unable to bare witnessing her in any level of pain, physical or emotional. It was his role in life to make it better. When her head hit his shoulder he noticed his heart rate increase and his temperature rise.

She was asleep within moments, but Mulder continued to rub her neck and shoulders. As she moved into a deeper slumber she murmured something and nudged her cheek into his chest. Mulder felt his heart almost stop. He self-consciously looked around to see if anyone was watching him. It was stupid. Nobody cared what they did; no-one on the flight knew them. The seat on the other side of Scully was empty and the man across the aisle was busy reading the in-flight magazine. Resigning himself to that fact that nobody in proximity would chastise him for crossing the invisible line that should exist between partners, he lowered his lips and grazed them across Scully's forehead just at her hairline. He had kissed her forehead before, numerous times actually. But that was different. This time she was not devastated by a personal lose, she was not in severe physical pain or harm, and she hadn't be threatened in a way that scared the wits out of both of them. She was simply asleep, asleep on his shoulder.

Mulder continued to watch her sleep. He couldn't have wished for better entertainment for his flight. She was beautiful, and he was able to stare without her questioning his actions. As she shifted in her sleep Mulder became worried. She still looked rather uncomfortable. He glanced around trying to determine how to best remedy the situation. The seat next to her was empty. He reached over her body trying to jostle her as little as possible. With gentle care he lifted her legs up onto the empty seat. Then removing the pillow he had wedged behind his head, placed it on his lap and lowered her head so it rested softly on the pillow. This was most definitely crossing a line he thought to himself, but he really couldn't have cared less. Finally, he spread a blanket over her and leaned back closing his own eyes.

* * *

Scully awoke with a start, she was confused all around. Realization set in was she recognized the pair of pants on the legs where he head rested. The airplane jerked again and she felt Mulder's hand tighten where it was resting on her upper arm. With the next jerk she sat up quickly. She turned and looked into Mulder's eyes. He was nervous, that much she could tell. She could read his eyes like a book. What he was nervous about she was not sure. Was it the intense turbulence they were experiencing or something more personal, the position they had just been in? When the plane jolted she didn't care. Her hand searched desperately for his where it lay between them. She searched only with her hand, her eyes still transfixed on his.

Mulder's own hand was searching for Scully's and as they met they clasp together tightly. Mulder had experienced a lot of turbulence in his life, but this was very different. Finally the pilot came on the speaker. "Ladies and Gentlemen, due to the sudden extreme weather on the East Coast we are required to turn around and make an alternate landing in Minneapolis/ St. Paul. Please remain in your seats with your seat belts fastened until we have landed."

Scully and Mulder continued to stare into each other's eyes. Their fear was gone now, replaced by something else. An understanding, unspoken, neither of them knew when things had changed, but it was there just the same. Had it been while they were asleep, was their sheer proximity during a time of unconsciousness enough to change things? Or had it been when their hands hand found each other in the brief moment of panic? It didn't really matter when, it had happened.

* * *

Mulder fought rolling his eyes at the woman behind the airline desk. Clearly she was an idiot, but he was sure with all the emergency landings and cancelled flights it had been a trying day for her. Resigned he finally walked back over to where Scully was sitting on the ground leaning against the wall. "No flights out until tomorrow at the earliest," he said sliding down to sit next to her. She nodded. "They won't give us our luggage either. But there are shuttles to the hotel outside by baggage claim."

She sighed, "Alright," she said and she started to get up. Mulder was on his feet lightning fast and held out a hand to help Scully up.

Mulder became equally frustrated with the woman at the hotel as he had been with the airline representative. "But we aren't a couple," Mulder was insisting. "We work for the FBI."

"Sir, it doesn't matter who you work for. We do not have enough room available to give you two rooms. I can give you one room with two beds. It is the best I can offer."

"That's fine," Scully finally interposed. "Come on Mulder, I'm tired." Scully took the key the woman offered and turned towards the elevators.

The entire ride to the fourth floor Mulder was cursing in his mind. He was not prepared to spend a night in the same room as Dana Scully. Not after what had happened on the flight. He was too on edge. It was taking all his will power not to push her against the wall of the elevator and kiss her right then. He couldn't even imagine how bad it would be in a hotel room. At least they had two beds, if they had been forced to share a bed Mulder couldn't have been held responsible for his actions.

Scully got to the room first and entered quickly dropping her carryon bag on the bed closest the door. Mulder followed her into the room. He looked at the clock on the nightstand. 9:37. "I'm gonna take a shower," he said. He dropped his briefcase by the closet and ducked into the bathroom.

Scully sat down on the edge of her bed. She was partially grateful for Mulder's quick exit and puzzled by it at the same time. She needed a moment to think, preferably without him looking at her. The tension that had been building between them for years seemed to have finally reached boiling point. She could have sworn that in the elevator ride up Mulder was ready to take some very un-partner like action. Yet, he had been so exasperated by the idea of them sharing a hotel room. Perhaps, he was feeling some of the lack of control she was noticing in herself.

Mulder regretted his decision to shower almost immediately. The warmth of the water running over his body was not helping him stop thinking about Scully. He pressed his hand to the wall, as if he could feel her energy through it. He thought about the way she had looked on the plane, asleep, her head in his lap. He hadn't removed his hand from her arm until she had woken up. As his blood began to boil, he adjusted the temperature on the shower. Cold was definitely the way to go, he decided.

Mulder emerged from the bathroom a while later wearing his suit pants and no shirt. He was carrying his undershirt, dress shirt, jacket, tie, shoes, and socks. Carefully he arranged them all in the closet. His hope was they wouldn't be too wrinkled and would look somewhat presentable in the morning. Enough to keep him from looking like a homeless man.

Scully was sitting on her bed watching an old movie on TV. Well she had been before Mulder surfaced from the bathroom. Since he had come out, she was mainly watching him. The man looked amazingly good without a shirt on.

Mulder positioned himself on his own bed and joined her in watching. They hardly spoke a word during the movie. Though, neither of them watched it carefully. Most of their time was spent casting glances at each other and then looking away a bit awkwardly when caught. Finally, as the movie ended Scully got up to go to the bathroom.

"I left the little travel packs the airline gave us in there for you," Mulder said. "There is a toothbrush and stuff."

"Thanks," Scully replied.

Mulder took advantage of the empty room to remove his slacks and hang them in the closet with the rest of the clothes. He then crawled into bed in his boxers and turned out the bedside light.

The room was dark when Scully materialized from the bathroom. She was grateful for the dark. She had no intention of sleeping in her clothes, when she had to wear them again the next day and after the day's events, she had no intention of stripping to her bra and underwear in front of Mulder. As Scully stood by the dresser and neatly folded her clothes, laying them on top, Mulder tried to avert his eyes. He failed miserably. The way the dim light seeping in through the curtains illuminated her skin was mesmerizing. When she turned toward the bed, he forced himself to close his eyes. He wasn't going to be caught staring. Scully crawled into her bed. She tried not to focus on her partner sleeping in the next bed, just as he was trying not to think about her. They were both failing miserably.

* * *

The clock on the nightstand shown 2:11, when Scully woke up. At first, she couldn't figure out what had woken her. Then she heard Mulder. He was in the throws of a nightmare. A bad one she would guess. Flicking on the bedside lamp, she sat up and looked at him. He had kicked the blankets around so much his legs were bound by them. Sweat shown all over his body and tears stained his face. He was murmuring desperately, only sporadic words were discernable. She listened carefully trying to decipher his dream. All she could make out was, "No… her… need…please… don't." Everything else was just too indiscernible. When Mulder began to kick widely and reach out for something she knew she needed to do something.

Crawling out of bed, she crossed the short distance between them and knelt on the edge of his bed. "Mulder," she whispered. When he only stirred she reached out and touched his cheek. "Mulder," she said again louder. "You are having a bad dream, wake up."

Finally, he did. His breath was ragged and desperate. When he saw her face above him he followed his instincts and reached out, grabbing a hold of her and pulling himself to her. He held her in a tight hug for a moment, while he tried to stead his breath. Scully, too, held on tightly. She pressed her cheek into his and whispered to him reassuringly.

When Mulder finally felt calmer he eased back a bit. Scully ran her hand through his hair and asked, "Samantha?" She could only assume his sister was the subject of the nightmare.

Mulder just shook his head in negation. He leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Shaking his head again he said, "You."

"What?" Scully asked.

"The dream, it was about you, being taken." Mulder looked at her deeply. "It is almost always you," he admitted. He reached out and ran one thumb across her cheek.

His eyes seemed to be finally taking her in and suddenly Scully became quite aware of the fact that she was wearing nothing but a bra and panties. Mulder seemed to have become aware of the fact as well and was blushing slightly.

But he felt like he should continue the confession he was making. "I dream about it all the time, about if you weren't here and how I would possibly live without you." Scully's eyes grew wide. But Mulder continued, "I don't think I could, Scully."

Scully felt her breath catch in her throat; she tried to open her mouth and speak but was unable to get any words out. Finally, through much effort she got out one word, "what?" It probably sounded more like "wha…" but it was the best she could do.

Mulder worried slightly at her response. But he figured, in for a penny in for a pound. No matter what her reaction he needed to be honest. "I couldn't live without you, Scully. I…I love you," he sighed and without giving her a chance to say anything he leaned forward and kissed her firmly on the lips. Scully didn't move a muscle. Mulder finally broke the kiss. Now he was scared, Scully hadn't moved at all through the entire kiss. She hadn't pulled back, but she hadn't kissed back either. He didn't know what to think.

Scully was frozen. When she felt Mulder pull back from the kiss she opened her eyes and found his staring back at her. She wasn't sure if her head needed to catch up to her body or the other way around. She just knew that her senses were unaligned and they needed to settle into place. Looking into his eyes she saw hints of fear. Not the same kind of fear she had seen in his eyes when he woke up from the nightmare, but the kind she saw when he doubted his ability and his worth as a person. Something she had seen more often that she would have liked in their years together. It broke her heart to realize that she could be the cause of that doubt. She opened her mouth and this time the words flowed out perfectly, "I love you, too." It was almost a whisper, before she leaned in and closed the distance between them, kissing him back.

Mulder responded to Scully's lips on his, running his hand along her face and gripping the back of her neck. He leaned back on the bed so his back rested against the headboard again, pulling her with him. Scully was nearly lying on top of Mulder, her body running length of his. Looking back on the moment neither one of them would be able to identify who deepened the kiss, but it happened just the same.

Scully found herself slightly shocked to discover one of her hands roaming over Mulder's bare chest while the other was rooted deeply in his hair. Mulder's hands were traveling over her back and down her sides, while his tongue slipped inside her mouth. After a number of more minutes exploring the new boundaries of their relationship, Scully was surprised when it was Mulder who stopped their advances. "Let's sleep," he murmured the words hummed against her skin. "I just want to hold you for awhile," he continued. They both knew there would be time for more.

Mulder slid down until he was lying in the bed. Adjusting the blankets he covered Scully as she adjusted her position next to him. He enjoyed the way she seemed to fit perfectly in the crook of his shoulder. Scully rested one hand on Mulder's chest and gripped the underside of his shoulder with the other. His arm snaked around her back and pulled her close, letting the other arm reach over and hold on to her arm. That was the position they would be in until late in the morning the next day, having missed any chance of getting on one for the over crowded flights to Washington.

* * *

I hope you liked it. Just some fluff. I love reviews. Please?


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